Revolution
by KillMagic
Summary: Takes place after Guy uses himself as a suicide bomb at the Dana Bhan and wakes up to a painful reality. He's sick of it all, and after what he had done to Riki...he's going to bring the elites down and crash the caste system. Heavy language warning.
1. Death's Sorrow

Every single Ai no Kusabi character and setting belongs to the wonderful people whom have created it. I'm not making any money off this, but hopefully, I'm making a few people happy with this fic…or, er, depressed J. 

Now for the boring stuff…

Like the love between Romeo and Juliet, how their love sprung from their hate, this fic sprung from hate as well. I detested Guy. Really, I did. I wanted to rip apart his innards and squash him. But after awhile…well, he grew on to me and I realized…hey, he knows he's doing wrong but he's doing it anyway because he loved Riki…er, that doesn't make much sense…anyway, this fic was sort of a challenge to see if I could get myself to actually LIKE Guy a bit more. Is it working? I think I feel sorry for him…so sorry for him I think he's actually one of my favorite characters now.

This takes place after Dana Bhan crashes, and after all of it…Guy's tired of it all. He's going to change everything, he's going to bring up a Revolt…the Elites are going to get it, and the slum folk are ones who's going to do it. Goodbye caste system…

Revolution

Chapter One: Ash Tears

He could feel the pain behind his head, a monster ready to break out and blow the world up in inferno. 

_Was it his migraines again? Damn it…_

The pain spread from the membranes of his brains and started oozing down his temple, over his eyes, his nose, and his lips. It made its way down every vein in his body. Heat rushed through his limbs and he screamed.

Everything exploded in white light before receding back to blackness again.

Guy opened his eyes.

He was in some sort of room…it was dark in every corner and he could hardly see a thing. The mattress underneath him was firm, but comfortable enough. He tried to move and pain ricocheted through his body.

Blinking away the ache, he saw a computer blinking its bluish-white screen to make out silhouette of a tall man leaning back in a large chair. The figure reached forward and switched the device off before standing up to push the curtains back, allowing a ray of eerie grayish light of a rainy sky to filter in.

"Where am I?" He rasped. "Riki – "

"Riki's dead," the figure said.

"Riki's what?" His brain throbbed madly.

"Go back to sleep. You're just coming out of anesthesia."

"Anesthesia? Who are you?"

"Katze."

He saw a pair of violet eyes stare down at him before shutting his eyes. Violet eyes that spoke to him that he was in trouble. 

Oh fuck everything….

He didn't know how long it was until he woke up again, but when his eyes decided to open, the room was dark and empty, and the sky was still casting a gray light. Katze – or whatever that man said his name was…he looked around. He was nowhere.

He tried to push himself to stand and realized he couldn't.

_His arm…_

Reality snapped back into him and he grabbed his mouth with the hand that still existed before nausea would overcome him. The memories came back. Iason. Riki. Dana Bhan. The pain of reality hit him so hard that he felt all the breath being suck out of him.

_Why wasn't he dead_?

He remembered Katze's words…

_Riki's dead._

Two words.

_Riki's dead_.

He choked on his own thoughts, grabbing his throat. He pushed himself up from the bed, pain raking its way over his ribs. He clutched at his chest, knocking the only door open. What appeared to be an office swam in front of his eyes and he fell on the smooth floor. He struggled to stand up, ignoring the white heat of pain.

"What do you think you're doing?" 

"Where's Riki?" He roared at the man that stood in front of him. "TAKE ME TO HIM!"

"I told you, bastard," Katze hissed, the soft lighting in room contrasting with the hard features on his face, turning the trail of a grotesque white scar on his face into something of a demon's. "Riki's dead. You killed him."

"I didn't –"

"Oh yeah?" A leg lashed out, crashing the coffee table and missing his nose by inches. He grabbed Guy's shirt with an amazingly strong arm and shoved him against the glass window. "_Look_ at that!" He pointed to the city, and further beyond, the ruins of his memories. "DANA BHAN!"

He shoved him back on the floor and Guy hissed in pain. Katze walked back to the solitary sofa and fell into it, emitting a hiss from the cushion. He jerked a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one.

"Want one?" He mumbled, but instead of waiting for an answer, he tossed the whole pack at him along with a lighter.

In the mist of shock and accepting reality, he took the pack with one hand and fumbled to light it.

"Here," Katze took the cigarette from him and lit it, before handing it back. He took it and inhaled the fumes.

"What happened?" He whispered.

"Why don't you tell me the first part?" Katze said, blowing a perfectly shaped smoke ring into the air. "And I'll tell you what I know."

"What do you mean the first part?"

"You were handed to me, beat up to pulp," Katze looked at him, a violet glare beneath red fringe. "There's no such creature on this planet that could manage to crush an arm's bone into powder except for a full-fledged Blondie."

Painful reality…but so what? He could get an implant – an android's arm. But what he did was something that couldn't be replaced or undone.

"I had Riki castrated," he finally said. "I left him at my place. I turned myself into a suicide bomb at the Dana Bahn after Iason decided to beat me up. After that…I was here."

"Simply put," Katze blew another smoke ring in the air. "Riki came back to get you. He and Iason dragged you out. Somehow Iason managed to get himself so fucked up back there he couldn't walk back out, leaving Riki to pull you outside. He made me take you, and he went back in."

He choked. "He went back…_in_?"

"Simply said."

He looked down at his hands. "I don't understand…"

"You couldn't drag them apart, Guy," Katze said, stabbing his cigarette inside an ashtray the shape of small aircraft. "Whatever you do, you can't break a wedge. Not the wedge that holds Iason and Riki together."

He felt the tears stream down his face thinking about Riki…_his_ Riki.

"Riki was never yours, Guy," Katze said, almost reading his mind. "Iason had him from the day he was born, and to try and fight that…"

"You want me to let it go?" Guy gritted his teeth, adrenaline and anger rushing through him.

"Let it go? Let it go?" Katze laughed, a small sob forcing its way between. "Guy – even _I_ couldn't let it go."

"Give me my clothes back," Guy said. "I'm getting out of here."

"Where will you go?" Katze asked.

"I'm sick and tired of this place!" He shouted. "If it wasn't for – if it wasn't for this mess…" He took a deep breath. "I hate this place."

"Don't we all?"

"My clothes?"

"You'll have to wear mine. Whatever you were wearing three days ago are now hopefully degenerated," Katze grunted and motioned for Guy to follow him.

"So who are you?" Guy asked.

"Does it matter so much?" Katze sounded slightly annoyed.

"What are you to Riki?"

"Me? Friend…I guess," Katze shrugged and open the door to a furnished bedroom. He threw open a closet and pulled out several articles of clothing. "Hopefully these fit. Roll up the sleeves or something it it's too long."

He drew the pants over his naked legs and pulled on the oversized gray sweater. Everything was too damned loose, but he didn't care.

"Am I free to leave?" He asked.

"What are you going to do?" Katze folded his arms over his chest.

"I'm going to a funeral, and there, I'm going to sing a requiem." He let the last word choke on itself and he turned away before Katze could see his eyes.

Dana Bahn was in absolute ruins.

He bent down on one knee and took the ashes in his hands, holding up the fist of what was left of Riki onto his forehead. He let it go, standing up.

"Riki…" he whispered.

_All good things must come to an end_…normally, he would snort at such a quote, but like the events that took place…he took it with burning pain.

_A requiem…_

He nearly laughed. There were few songs he'd care to learn…

"_Oh Bonny Portmore…"_ he suddenly garroted. "_I'm sorry to see such a woeful destruction…"_ He stopped, faltering as he struggled to force the heartache down and trying to remember the words to the Irish folksong. "_You shine where you stand…all curtained down…" _he stopped, clutching at his heart with his hand. "_If I had you now as I had before…_" his soft tenor broke out against the ruins of the Dana Bhan and stopped. "If I had you now as I had once before Riki…" he took another deep breath. "I doubt I could make you happy."

This was what Riki wanted at the very end. He turned, taking one last look at the ruins before walking away.

"Fare thee well," he raised a hand in salute. 


	2. Rebelling Against a Utopia

** Usual copyright information goes here. I don't own Ai no Kusabi.**

** Dystopias rule.**

** Happy late New Year.**

**_Chapter 2: Rebelling Against a Utopia_**

"How does it feel?"

"Like I'm holding a blender from my elbow," Guy flexed the artificial arm the doctor attached to him and watched the metal wires enlarge. 

"Don't worry, it'll feel like a normal arm again in a few days," the doctor typed something into his computer and peered over the large glasses. "Are you _sure_ you don't want to have silicone seal over that? I can make it look and feel a 100% real."

"I don't have more money for that," Guy said. "And I want to keep it has a memory."

The doctor shrugged. "Anyway…that will be a 1,000 credits. Do you have insurance?"

He shook his head and pulled out the small card and slipped it over the smooth desk to the doctor. Damn…a thousand credits…that was the last of his money.

"Okay," he slipped the card back and Guy took it, slipping it back into the pocket of his jeans. The doctor nodded to him once, that he was free to leave, and he left the room silently.

Where to go next? His apartment? He stuck his both of his hands into his pockets and was startled to find that the feeling of his arm not being there was gone. 

He walked all the way down to the crummy flat he lived in; trudging up the stairs and twisting the doorknob open after unlocking it. He flopped down on the couch and let go of a heavy sigh.

How long ago was it when Riki told him about Iason? How long ago was it when he drew back his fist and slammed it into the cheek that he had once, long ago, kissed and ran his fingers over it? And now Riki was dead. Dead because of him, because of a few days in which he had lost his mind. 

He ran his hand down his shirt and pulled it off, throwing the garment down on the floor. He reached up behind his neck and slid off the band that held the thick hair together and let the long strands slide down his shoulders and touched the edges of his waist.

"Fuck it all," he said and took off his pants, striding across the room and into the shower. The automatic glass door shut behind him and he slid down on the tiles, clutching his head. The water immediately poured down, adjusted to the temperature his body would feel comfortable at. Instead, he reached up and pressed at the "Cold" button as hard as he could, turning the spray of water into ice. He cried out and punched at the ice, spraying shards of sharp silver everywhere.

_Riki's dead…Riki's dead…_

He cried out in pain, clutching at his heart that threatened to beat out of his chest. He sobbed into the glass, ignoring the coldness of the ice.

"I'm sorry!" He whispered, half sobbing dry tears. "I'm so sorry…so sorry I tried to separate you from Iason…"

"DUDE! He's ALIVE!"

He gasped as he felt the glass door he was leaning on suddenly slide open and he crashed on the floor. He looked up to see Sid, Luke, and Morris staring down at him, looks of pure relief on their faces.

He stood up and landed a punch into Luke's stomach.

"People don't walk into other people's apartment!!" He shouted as Luke lay sprawled on the floor, coughing.

"The door was open…and we were worried," Sid said, looking at him. "Are you all right?"

"No…I just happened to be hemorrhaging just a few minutes ago and I decided to take a bath, that's all," he hissed. "You didn't notice all the paramedics in the kitchen did you? Oh I guess you didn't – they must have left."

Luke suddenly stopped coughing dramatically on the ground and looked up. "Guy…" he whispered. "Your arm…"

In a flash, he grabbed the closest thing that could conceal his arm – a gray tablecloth underneath a lamp. The lamp crashed on the ground, but didn't break. He pulled the cloth over the mechanized arm and rushed out of the bathroom.

"Guy – what's wrong, you can tell us…"

"NO! Get away from me!" He cried and tried to find some desperate corner he could curl up into.

"Guy…" Sid placed a hand on his shoulder. "You can tell us what's wrong. Remember? We're Bison…we're –"

"Shut up and go away," he jerked from Sid's touch. "You're not my damn shrink."

"It's Riki, isn't it?" Morris said. "Riki has to do with this…"

"I _knew_ you'd lose it when you said you were going to hunt down… "Tanagura's Mr. Blondie"," Luke made two peace signs with his hands and jerked it up and down twice to emphasize the quotes. "Look at you…you look half dead."

Guy sighed and pulled the gray cloth over his arm and shook his head, feeling the leadership qualities he had developed after Riki disappeared for three years sink into him. "Look…I'm kind of messed up right now and I want to be alone. Why don't I see you guys in a few days? I seriously can't talk right now…" he clutched his forehead. "Please."

It nearly took him a week before he could pull himself back together, and another before he had the courage to pick up the phone hanging off his wall and call the team back together. He didn't know how to explain what had happened, much less what to say. If something like this happened a year ago, he would probably call it a quits on the Bison gang and leave Tanagura. Maybe sought out a new gang to join, hang out in the whorehouse… but something inside him dug hard into the pits of his mind and said that no way, was he going to give up on Bison. And he had a mission for them:

_Get out of the planet Amoi._

He stepped out of the shower, and after drying himself, he pulled on a blue shirt over his bare torso and struggled to get into his jeans. He swept his hair back into the usual ponytail before kicking the door open before walking down the worn stairs to the open street.

He stopped for a moment to study the streets, wondering which way to go. Absentminded with his thoughts, he let a foot slip off the sidewalk and brush against the gravel of the street.

"Hey, punk, watch out!! Get off the street!"

He cried out and leapt away just in time as a car wheeled and nearly hit his hip. It crashed on the sidewalk and hit a telephone post. He whirled around angrily and slammed his hands on the hood the moment it stopped moving.

"Learn how to drive, you fucking bast – " he stopped as he saw the driver open the door.

"Guy…isn't it?" The red hair man asked.

"Katze – Katze?" Guy said.

The piercing violet eyes flicked up to him for a second before looking at the damage on the car. "I love the way people repay me," he rolled his eyes heavenwards and stepped back into the car.

"Hey, wait!" Guy said, swallowing hard. "Uh…I'll pay you back. Seriously!"

"No need. Where are you going to get the money?" Katze's eyes traveled down his artificial arm. "Seeing that arm probably took whatever was left in your wallet."

"You forget, I'm in the black market," he gingerly touched the metal, feeling the tiny electric sensors buzz. "Hey, mind if I talk to you? I've got a good deal…that you…ah…might be interested in."

Katze raised his eyebrows. "Why should I care that you have a "good deal"? I already have all the money I need."

"Fine. Consider it doing me a favor, and you get paid for it."

Katze studied him for a moment. "You know…I have to say that you look totally different from the man that tried to kill Iason."

"Don't mention that!" He angrily hit his hands on the roof of the car. "Are you going to help me or not?"

"No."

He sighed, feeling the pain in his heart increase. "Listen…Katze. I really do need your help for this, and you're the only one I could think of that could offer some assistance. And it's not going to cost you anything but time."

"Get in the car. Your whining is enough to make me want to decapitate my ears. And sit in the backseat."

Feeling a small flicker of hope, he slid inside the backseat and wrapped his arms around his torso, watching a small curl of smoke escape from a cigarette in the front seat.

"I have a meeting to go to, so you'll have to bear with me for a few hours," Katze said and he looked at the rearview mirror. "Located in a higher quality whorehouse, so you don't have to wait in the car. Unless you'd rather."

"What care do I have for a whorehouse?"

"Maybe you'll see it as a future career, being a whore," Katze wheeled the car violently into a rather nice looking street and came to a sudden stop in front of a large building, built totally from black granite. A door made from crystal, specially cut so it threw rainbows of colors across the granite.

"Do I _want _to go inside?"

"Go. I'm not going to leave the car here for you to steal and sell," Katze said. "Go in first and leave in about three hours."

He walked out of the car and casually pushed the door open, a wash of darkness coming over him. Only torches – actual burning torches of fire hanging from the walls, lit the large room. There were about twelve large tables, each illuminated by soft yellow lights that emitted from flames underneath the glass of the tables, and a long pole jutted out from the center straight up to the ceiling. Heavy chains with a pair of handcuffs and ankle cuffs hung from the pole. Only a few tables were unoccupied, while the rest were stuffed and filled with men looking up at the show they were getting. 

"No guess what that's used for," he picked an unoccupied table, free from any chained dancers and drinkers. He sighed and watched Katze walk in and joined a large table. They seemed to be arguing for a few minutes, before one of the men started clapping his hands and shouting loudly up to the bartenders up front. Katze's smile turned instantly stiff.

He sighed and sank into the black sofa. Maybe if he tried hard enough, he could sleep the three hours away.

"Hey, want a drink?"

He looked up into the pair of strangest eyes he had ever seen in his life, one eye so pale and blue that hardly any light was reflected off it, and there hardly seemed to be pupil, even though the room was dark. The other was a bright green, almost glowing in the dark. A swept of black hair, that probably grew past the boy's waist swept over his knees.

"Uh…no thank you…" he breathed, staring at the thick fold of black eyelashes.

"Come on…I see you're here alone, unless you're waiting for someone," the boy stood up straight, revealing that he was wearing nothing but a black leather vest and a very short pair of shorts. He couldn't be older than sixteen.

"No – "

"Then, let me keep you company. The name's Malachi," he offered a lean hand to Guy and he ignored it. The boy shrugged his thin shoulders and sat down on the leather sofa next to him. Katze took that moment to lift his eyes and stared hard at him, his eyes only saying one thing: "_What the hell are you doing?_"

"Oh, you're with him?" Malachi caught Guy looking back at Katze.

"You know Katze?"

"Sure, regular customer," Malachi pulled a pack of cigarettes encrusted inside a metal box that was strapped on a leather strap around his thigh and placed one in his mouth. "You have a lighter?"

"I don't smoke. And what do you mean by "regular customer" anyway?" Guy asked, couldn't believe that someone like the emotionless redhead could actually own this fiery dancer.

Malachi laughed. "No, not a customer like that. He couldn't have sex anyway, in case you don't know," Malachi dropped the unlit cigarette on the floor. "He's castrated. Wouldn't tell me why."

_Castrated?_

"Regular customer in the fact that he comes here a lot," Malachi grinned at him. "I own this place."

"You?" Guy raised his eyebrows. "How old are you?"

"Eighteen. Legal enough," he winked and stood up.

"Hey wait…um…"

"Sorry, I don't give "special" services to anyone," he ran a hand through the thick lock of hair and looked silently back at him. "Anyway, what's your name?"

"Guy."

"Pleased to meet you," Malachi smiled at him, and left.

The moment that he disappeared into the darkness, Guy saw Katze excuse himself and hurried towards him.

"Leave. Now. Get in the car."

"What? Meeting's over so soon?"

"Just do it, damn it!"

Guy leapt from the sofa and nearly ran out of the dark room, the sunlight hitting him so hard it was like being hit with an explosive. He felt Katze behind him, and just about shoved him inside the car. He slid to the floor as the car whirled out of the driveway and slid into the road, scaring a gang of bikers off the street and into the sidewalk.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Katze asked. "You and Malachi?"

"Why? He just came over and said hi."

"I don't care," Katze said, his lips clipping each word dangerously. "Stay away from him. I don't pay attention to rumors, but from what I've heard, he's behind one of the largest mafia groups in Tanagura," the violet eyes flicked towards him for a second. "Whether he's in the largest one or not, he _is_ involved in assassination."

"Then why on earth would you want to be attending a meeting in some…mafia bar?" 

"When we pay the bartenders…" Katze took a cigarette and lit it. "We're not paying for the drinks. We're paying for Malachi's protection in the black market. Guy – stay away from him. Many men are protective of him even though they're not his lovers. Seeing someone from the slums – " he paused and stared knowingly at Guy. "Seeing someone from the slums with Malachi will lead many men to kill you."

"He seems like just a rich, snob of a kid," Guy rubbed his arm. 

"Aristocrats. His ancestors were one of the first scientists to colonize Amoi, believe it or not," Guy said and turning into a dark alley. "Get out."

Guy stepped from the car out into the shadows and followed Katze up a secluded, filthy staircase into the gray building, knowing that Katze's apartment was behind the dirty gray walls. He choked back a cry of surprise as a large rat ran over his shoes and he stumbled back a few steps on the staircase.

"You know, you really do show to much emotion," Katze flicked his eyes towards him for a moment before opening the door with a set of keys. 

"That thing was the size of a hog!" He said, clutching at the railing. "You really should live in a better place. Even my place in the slums doesn't have a rat that's been tainted with enough radiation to turn into a badger."

"I don't like to mess with other people," Katze gave him a long, cool stare and pushed the door open into the dark apartment. "Sorry, but I don't have enough courtesy to offer you coffee," he took a small remote control from his pants and pressed a small red button, activating a light bulb and an air conditioner. "Sit," he motioned the sofa.

Guy sat down and placed his arms of his knees, an act that he always did he felt like he really needed to say something important. He looked down at the floor and waited until Katze pulled out a long cigarette and lit it as he sat down on the tattered leather.

"Your lungs are probably polluted. I told Riki he shouldn't smoke as well, but he doesn't listen to me," Guy said, half speaking more to himself than to Katze.

"I'm not surprised. Riki's more of a rebellion than some wild animals. And besides you smoke as well," Guy smashed the cigarette into a porcelain ashtray. 

"I smoke only when I'm under extreme stress, and it's only one or two."

"That's what they all say. So what's the deal, Guy?" 

"How would you like to get out of Amoi?"

"Amoi?" Katze laughed, a high-pitch unnatural laugh that sounded like it was dipped in a can labeled "Sarcasm". "Do you know how hard it is to even get out of Tanagura? Forget Tanagura, try getting out of the slums first."

"They say people like me have a green aura," he couldn't help but smile. "We still manage to do a good job even if we skip from step four to step seven."

"And what do you mean leave _Amoi_? Why?"

"This place is fucked up shit, Katze!" Guy slammed his hand down on the coffee table, rattling the ashtray. "If I go on living here for the rest of my life – " he took a deep breath. "I can't. I can't stay here. I'd rather be dead."

"Then die. What do I care?"

White light seemed to explode in his eyes as soon as Katze said the apathetic words and he felt like someone had tried to dig inside the skin of his chest with their own fingernails and hands. Before he could even think past the lightning flash of white anger that erupted in his eyes, he shot from the leather sofa and grabbed Katze at the collar of his shirt with both of his hands, pulling the other man up to meet him eye to eye.

"You fucking – FURNITURE!!" He screamed. "DON'T YOU CARE AT ALL ABOUT LIFE ITSELF? DO YOU THINK IASON AND RIKKI WOULD'VE WANTED YOU TO LIVE YOUR LIFE LIKE THIS – "

The white light exploded into tiny shards of colors that focused into the room surrounding him as soon as Katze slapped him. The man pulled him close and crushed his own lips into Guy's.

He uttered a cry of surprise as he felt Katze's moist lips lock onto his own. He clutched at the large arms beneath the gray sweater and tried to pull away – only to find out that Katze wasn't kissing him – he was biting him to the extreme. 

As soon as the salty, coppery taste of blood filled his tongue, Katze shoved him back on the sofa and he clutched at his hurt lip. He looked up at Kazte who wiped his lips free of scarlet liquid and gave him a smile – the kind of smile an executioner might give to the executed.

"Why – "

"To shut you up," Katze narrowed his eyes. "If you want to earn respect from other people, you have to learn how to control your emotions first."

Guy sucked up the last of the blood and spit on the floor, ignoring Katze's eyes. "I guess I'll leave you here to die, with all of your cigarettes and computers," he stood up, his hands shaking as he slid them into his pockets. If Katze said anything, or did anything out of _his _line one more time - 

"Where do you intend to go, if you leave Amoi?"

Still looking at the ground, Guy walked over to the door and flung it open, slamming it on the outside wall. He grinned and kept his eyes on the concrete floor.

"**Earth**."


	3. Blade Through Flesh, Pain Through Heart

**Usual copyright info goes here, and enjoy.**

Chapter 3: Blade Through Flesh, Pain Through Heart 

"Earth."

"Earth," Guy said again.

"Earth?"

"Yes, damn it, EARTH!" Guy said. 

"Why on earth would you want to go to _Earth_?" Katze said. "What do you _mean_?"

"This is a dystopia, Katze!" Guy slammed the door shut and returned to the sofa. "People can't live in a state like this – I – can't. Not after Riki and Iason died."

"Why?" Katze asked, the rudeness gone from his voice.

"I told you people can't live I a state like this, I can't," he looked at his hands. "And if I can't live in a state like this, I'm going to die. And I don't want to die. Not after seeing the way Riki and Iason died. It's this…Utopian society that drove them to die like this," he rolled his eyes heavenwards to stop his eyes from water. He gritted his teeth together. "If there wasn't a damn caste system – "

"Why Earth though?"

"I'm going to bring Jupiter down," Guy said. "I'm going to clean this place out of the caste system, and then I'm getting out of here. To Earth. And I'm offering you a free seat there – if you'll help me."

Katze stared at him and raised an eyebrow. He smiled, "You think you can offer me a seat to Earth. You think you'll have the money. You think I _want_ to go to Earth?"

He sighed. "Katze, I need you help, I'll admit it." He flicked his eyes to the computer Katze had on his desk. "You're the only one with the equipment I can use to hack inside the main computer – Jupiter."

Katze's eyes lit up and he puffed a low stream of smoke into the air. After watching it curl and diffuse, he looked back at Guy. "I nearly came to discovering Tanagura's secret once. You don't need good equipment to hack into a supercomputer like Jupiter. I used a terminal – a terminal that's not even close to today's standards."

"I can't. The amount of energy and electricity would blow the computer up to shards – at least, the computer _I_ have," Guy shook his head. "Look – I'm guaranteeing you that you'll have a seat to go to Earth if you help me succeed this. Why wouldn't you want to go to Earth anyway?"

"Earth?" Katze laughed. "Earth is a tale told to children in their beds. At least – slum mothers to their children. A planet free of a Utopia, a place where a slum bred could rise to the floundering heights in a few years. Green fields – _grass_," he laughed harder. "Can you imagine that? Fields of grass to look upon, without even an ounce of polished metal?"

Guy narrowed his eyelids. "And if you help me, then we'll get to see that field of grass."

"Get out of here. You've wasted enough of my time," Katze stood up.

Guy's mouth dropped open and the same anger rushed through him again. "Fine," he slammed his hand on the table and stood up to leave.

"Hey…Guy."

"WHAT?"

"No one's using the computer down at my workplace tomorrow at 8:20 PM to midnight. I don't know whether it'll explode if you manage to hack into Jupiter, but it's probably hell a lot better than that hunk of metal and plastic you have in your apartment."

"So, where are we going tonight?" Luke said, absentmindedly scratching his head while wiggling his foot against Guy's coffee table.

"What makes you say that we're going somewhere tonight?" Guy leaned his arms on the worn leather upholster sofa and looked out at the night sky, glittering with lights from the windows. It was raining – again. After the rather tight and tense meeting with Guy, he called whatever was left of Bison together to kill time before he went to Guy's workplace. 

"I dunno. We always go somewhere on Wednesdays, don't we?" Luke peered at him underneath his sunglasses. "What's up with you anyway?"

"Nothing," he sighed. 

"Is it about Riki?" Sid suddenly asked after a moment of silence. "Whatever happened to him anyway – "

He stood up so fast he knocked the table and disturbed the few empty bottles of stout on the table. "Hey – uh, I just remembered. I managed to grab a couple of good quality bikes and they're down at the garage. Want to see them before I sell them?"

"You bet," Luke jumped up and pushed open the door.

Norris placed a hand on his shoulder. "Guy – you're not yourself. Last week you seem to be nothing but anger, now you're like – like _hell_."

"Pretty bad, huh?" He shrugged off Norris's hand and hurried down to the dark garage.

"Damn, I can't see a thing – " Luke complained. 

Guy slid his hand along the wall, trying to find the light switch when he heard something crash – probably a barrel of motorcycle acid he used to melt broken metal parts together and a yell from Luke.

"GUY! Turn the lights on! There's someone in here!"

"Fuck it!" He kept on running his hands on the wall until he felt the large switch, grabbed it, and flung it on. Twelve large lights exploded in the garage with a sickening metallic sound that sounded like a thousand flies being burnt by a light bulb. The sudden explosion of light blinded him for a moment before his reflexes made him leap over the trail of burning acid and grabbed the wiggling black creature that tried to dive out of the partly open door. It tried to punch his shoulder but he had it in a headlock before it could react.

"Stunt!" He shouted.

"Here!" He heard Sid shout back.

A stunt gun flew through the air and Guy grabbed it, ramming the metal to the protesting body underneath him and pressed down on the button.

The body lay still.

"Is he dead?" Luke asked.

"Shit – Luke, there's not enough voltage in that stunt to even kill a dog," he said, pulling off the black cloth and looking down at the face.

_Malachi_.

His heart jumped up all the way to his throat. 

"I'll deal with this one. You guys stay here," he said, flinging the unconscious body over his shoulder. He felt a soft moan slip from the partly open lips as he hurried up the stairs and into his room. He threw Malachi down on the bed and slammed his door shut.

"Ow…"

"What _were you doing in my garage_?" He demanded.

Malachi glared at him and removed the thick cloth that covered the rest of his head and let his hair fall around his shoulders. He narrowed his eyes. "Those were my bikes you stole."

"Were they?" Guy crossed his arms. "So where's your band of Yakuza members to steal it back and assassinate me? Look, kid, I paid good money for that bike – maybe not as much as they were worth, but I paid money for them, which means I bought them. They're not yours anymore."

"You _stole_ them!"

"Black market," Guy grinned. "And you better get your ass out of here before I call up Sid, Luke, and Norris and say they can have some fun with you."

"Go on, I dare you," Malachi suddenly stood up and walked up to him, his body clad in black dangerously close to Guy. He wrapped a hand around his neck and Guy felt the small hairs at the back of his neck prickle. "Though I'd rather you fuck me instead of them." He felt the tip of a wet tongue graze against a tendon on his neck.

Guy shoved Malachi back and gritted his teeth. "Keep your hands off of me!"

The look Malachi gave him was hard enough to slice through cold metal. "What is wrong with you?" He shouted.

"I don't want a whore here, you – " he couldn't find words that were bad enough to shout at him. "Just, get out."

Malachi continued to glare at him. "Can you at least drive me to the bar?" He said each word sounding like it was dipped in ice.

"And get myself killed? No. Besides, I only have a motorcycle."

Malachi hissed at him and flung open the only window in his bedroom and without a warning, pushed himself up on the windowsill and dropped to the street, a story high.

Guy squinted at the small piece of paper that Katze handed to him before leaving his apartment the other day, trying to decipher the squiggly black lines that were meant to be a road map. He stuffed the paper into his shirt pocket and swung the motorcycle into a dark alley and jumped off before it came to a full stop.

Following Katze's instructions, he punched in the password when the door asked him too and walked inside a dark hallway. The door slid shut behind him and he blinked rapidly, trying to get used to the dark.

Finally, out of fear of any wandering guards, he removed his shoes and tiptoed on the floor, flinching at every sound he made on the linoleum floor. He ran his hands across the wall until he came to a door and pushed it open.

A hand grabbed his shoulder.

He cried out and whirled around, only to have a big flashlight shone in his eyes. 

"Katze?" He asked.

"No, it's Jupiter," he said.

"Will you put that thing down?" Guy threw his hands up to shield his eyes from the light.

"Suit yourself," Katze flicked the light off and pulled down a heavy switch. A soft golden light, strong enough to surround the floor and various objects, but not obvious enough to lure eyes from the outside washed over the lonely hallway. Katze's face suddenly turned soft and his shock of red hair seemed to glow with random strands of whimsically spun gold. Even his eyelashes were illuminated. It gave his emotionless mask an air of melancholy and sadness – even depression. 

"Katze…" Guy said softly. "Where are you from?"

"Not your business. Do you want to use the terminal or not?" His sharp voice ripped through violently.

He followed the man into a small room, empty except for a computer on a table, a chair, and a few notebooks. "You're free to access this place now, whenever you wish," Katze said. "But if anyone starts to get suspicious, I'm not going to help you. And whatever happens _don't go upstairs_." 

"What's upstairs?"

"People working you idiot," Katze cocked his head to the side. "If there's something dangerous going on, just leave. Run out the back door."

He shut the door behind him and Guy sighed at the tension that went along with Katze. He flopped down on the chair and flipped the computer on.

Memories came back.

He leaned back on the chair and looked at the ceiling, remembering the first time he met Riki. How long ago was it? Five? Six? Eight? All he could remember was a scrawny boy, thin, cold, and starving, hidden behind a couple of garbage cans behind an old bar. Raped? He wasn't sure, but he remembered bending down and helping the boy up. Said his name was Riki. The boy said he was beat up because he was trying to steal someone's wallet.

And after that it was history.

He didn't know how Riki managed to become Bison's leader even though he was the smallest and somewhat, the most inexperienced in the fields of the black market and stealing. But he was brave; Guy had to give him credit for that. He would drive through crowded buildings with his motorbike, leaping from escalator to escalator, risking his life for the other gang members. _That_ was what made him a leader. His willingness to risk his own life for others.

Riki was always there when he needed him, the same around way when _Riki_ needed him. Maybe it was a bad day and the only thing that kept them from riding their bikes over the cliff was the fact that the other was still alive. He remembered the touches, the caresses, the soft kisses – and the more violent ones. He bit his lip.

He forced himself not to think and started working instead.

He felt something warm next to his cheek.

"Hmmmrghhhhwaaat?" He moaned.

"Thirsty? You've been down here for nearly eight hours straight?"

Guy blinked, his eyes unfocused. He yawned and lifted his head up from the table. "Wha?"

His eyes focused on the steaming mug in front of him and he yawned again. "Whazzat?" 

"It's called coffee. Mankind's awakening drug."

He took the hot mug in his hand and drank it, appreciating the warmth that spread down to his cold hands and feet. "Thanks. You done with work already?"

"No…just came down to see how you're doing. How are you doing?" Katze pulled out a cigarette from his pocket and slid it gracefully into his mouth.

"Work or physical wise?"

"Both."

"Tired as hell," he yawned and drank the coffee. "I managed to hack into some old history files about Jupiter – how she was built, the scientists behind it all…."

"How the hell did you manage to get history files? I thought Jupiter had them destroyed," Katze lit his cigarette and sighed as he puffed out the first smoke.

"I have this…thing that's kind of illegal," Guy reached behind the hard drive and pulled out the piece of hardware he owed his life to. It was no bigger than his hand and was the color of soft greenish metal. He flipped it open to a blank screen and a thousand green binary digits crawled across the black screen. 

"What's that?" Katze asked.

"It's a portable search engine that can hack by itself into hidden files from anywhere at anytime," Guy said, hitting the activate button. The binary digits disappeared and another set of green letters took place.

**NAME PLEASE:**

He typed his name into the keyboard.

**PASSWORD PLEASE:**

He looked up suspiciously at Katze who turned around politely as he typed the password in. "Watch this," he said as he typed.

IASON MINK 

**LOADING INFORMATION. PLEASE WAIT.**

****

Katze's mouth dropped open and his cigarette fell to the floor. "I don't believe it! _Birth date? Occupation Status? Known Relationships? Blood Type? Date of DEATH? _How much did this thing cost you?"

"Most of everything I had," Guy shrugged and turned it off. "I bought it from a visiting hacker the second time Riki disappeared with Iason. I needed to find him."

"Is that how you tracked him?" Katze raised a smooth red eyebrow. "How does it work?"

"As long as you have some sort of identification on you, and it has a chip on it – " he waved the search engine. "This thing can find it and it will tell me _everything_."

"Huh," Katze stood up. "I might have to confiscate that back from you. I don't want you messing around with my data."

"Why would I want to mess around with you data?"

"I don't know, but stay away. And go home, get some sleep," Katze smashed his cigarette on the floor with a large boot. "You look like hell."

Guy watched Katze leave and he yawned again, sliding the hardware into his jacket and stretched he reached over to turn off the computer. He walked around the empty office, drinking the rest of his coffee while trying to warm up.

He heard a loud gunshot somewhere above his floor.

He dropped the mug and pulled his own electric stunt gun from his jeans and broke into a dead run for the stairs that led to Katze's workplace. Panting, he dropped to one knee with his arms in fighting trance as he listened behind the shut door.

"Damn it put the gun down!" He heard a loud grunt and a yelp of pain.

"Katze…Katze…" he heard a deep man's voice penetrate through the door. "I think you're going a bit too _far_ in this _"market"_ business of yours."

He heard another muffled yelp of pain and Katze's rasping voice. "I don't know what you're TALKING ABOUT?"

Another yelp of pain. "Katze, I thought we agreed to selling those imported pets at no more than 10% than what you bought from me," the man's voice said. "But from what I heard, you're selling them with 90%…maybe even a 100% interest!"

"What agreement?" Katze's voice sounded thick, like he was speaking through liquid. He coughed violently. "Jealous that I'm making more money than you are?"

"Why don't you just tell me who these people are that you're selling to?"

"To hell I'll tell you that!! They're my customers, not yours!"

"Kill him," the man said. "We'll leave him for his employees to find him."

"No!" 

Guy slammed his foot against the doorknob, breaking the lock with one swift kick. He burst through the damaged door and swung in front of guy who was on the floor, and clutching his stomach. A trail of blood and saliva fell from his lips as he coughed. 

He pressed down on the trigger.

The two men in his sight fell down as the electricity shot towards them. He had another man before he could run out the door, and a fourth one that lay crumpled on the floor. The fifth one, screaming madly, made a run towards the window but Guy caught him in mid jump.

"Come on!" He grabbed Katze's arm.

"You idiot!" Katze yelled. "I told you to stay down there!"

"And let you die??" He shouted back.

"Wait!" Katze pushed him away and warbled to a big safe behind his desk. Shaking, he pressed numerous digits into the lock and it swung open.

"Give me the briefcase over there," Katze said.

Guy handed it to him and the other man started shoveling whatever was inside the safe deep into the shiny black case. After a minute or two, he shut the safe and heaved the bag into Guy's hands.

"Come on…we have to…now…."

Balancing Katze with one hand, the briefcase and his things in the other, he trotted down the stairs and head straight for the garage. Panting, Katze shoved a set of keys into his hands and he opened the back door of the car, shoving Katze and his briefcase inside before leaping into the driver's seat. He stuck the key in the ignition and the car shot forward. He wheeled it around and sped down the street.

"Let me off…somewhere," Katze groaned. "Let me off at the street."

"What are you talking about?" Guy said as he spun away from a car. "Katze – " he turned around. Blood poured down underneath Katze's fingers as he clutched at his stomach. It ran down the white leather upholster and pooled down at the carpeted floor.

"Katze, you've been shot!"

"Let me go here…they'll follow the car…they'll kill both of us," he pleaded, pain making his violet eyes murky, "Guy…please."

"Fuck it – I'm not letting you out," Guy took one hand off the wheel to take off his jacket and handed to Katze. "Put pressure on the wound."

"I'm not stupid," Katze wheezed. "Where are you taking me?"

"The hospital!"

"NO!" Katze sat up and coughed. "They'll track me down – they'll kill both of us!"

"Fine then, we go to my apartment," he said.

"And then what? I'll bleed to death."

"No you won't," he took a sharp turn. "I know more about medicine than you'd ever know about the black market. My dad used to be the official slum doctor and he passed his skills to me. I'm not as good as the MDs in the hospital, but I can stitch up a wound when I can."

"Oh yeah? No wonder Riki didn't die on the spot when you had him castrated."

He winced. "Shut the hell up."

"Where are you going to get your equipment? Anesthetic? Needles?" 

"I know a shop that sells just about everything. If you lend me the money, I can get what I need."

"Suitcase," Katze grunted.

He took a handful of small plastic bills and stuffed them inside the pocket of his jeans. Without thinking, he reached back and squeezed Katze's tense shoulder.

"Come on."

Katze winced as Guy helped him up the stairs. He kept on looking behind his shoulder, half expecting a bullet to come tearing through the air and hit him on the head. Finally, he pulled out his keys and inserted it inside the lock. After he let the magnets work for a few seconds, he quickly pushed Katze inside.

"Not here," he said. "I can't operate you on the floor here. You want my friends to wonder what's up with the bloodstains?"

He half-dragged Katze to the bathroom and he laid the other man down on the tiles.

Katze winced. "You _could_ be a bit more gentle."

"If that hurt you, then the next part will be worst, pal," he took out the newly bought surgical kit. "You _sure_ you don't want to go to the hospital?"

"Just do what you need to do."

He nodded and pulled out the large scissors he managed to swipe off his table before he went inside the bathroom. He took it in his hands and slid it at the base of the gray sweatshirt.

Katze gave off a moan.

"I'm not cutting you up – yet," Guy shook his head. "Chill. I'll give you medicine for that part."

He slid the sharp blades over the soft materiel of the shirt and moved it up until it was severed in two places, exposing the creamy white flesh underneath with the streaks of red blood over the tone abdominal muscles. He pulled it back, his hands shaking slightly.

"You know…you have a body a sculptor would dream to sculpt."

"Shut up. And I don't want you shaking and holding any sharp blades around me."

"Take this," he tipped four blue pills into Katze's mouth before he could say anything more. "Tell me when your fingers start feeling numb."

He left Katze and walked into his bedroom, and tucked a pillow and a thick blanket under his arm. He rushed to the kitchen and brought out a large bottle of stout and remembered right on time that the pills didn't react well with alcohol. He shrugged and pulled out a bottle of milk and water instead.

"Here," he tucked the pillow underneath Katze's head. "How numb are you?"

"Is that a pillow or a rock underneath my head?"

"Numb enough," he laughed. He pulled out the blade and poised it above Katze's stomach. A sickly moan escaped his lips and he started panting.

"You're not going to feel any pain," he assured.

"Whatever. Just get it done with," Katze squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head to the side.

Three hours later, tired, but clean from the shower after cleaning off Katze's blood on the tiles, he trudged to the living room and fell on the couch. He let sleep take over his eyes the moment he landed on the soft pillows.

He woke up and dragged himself to the bedroom where Katze was sleeping. He pulled the sheets up and sighed. No, the man was not hemorrhaging, fortunately. He quietly shut the door and head to the refrigerator.

"Yo, Guy!"

He nearly dropped the bottle of stout as Luke, Norris, and Sid trudged into the kitchen. He gave them a glare that silenced them.

"What's wrong? You okay?" Luke asked, pushing pass him and reaching inside the fridge for his own bottle. 

"What…are…you…doing…here…" he fought to control his temper.

"Hanging out, like we always do."

"You…could…have…given…me…a…call," Guy squeezed the bottle and finally found the reason why they made it out of rubber. 

"Since when do we call you? Your home is my home, man," Luke walked through the door and sat on the couch, emitting a loud squeak.

"What do you want?" Guy walked out to the living room and sat down on the windowsill, crossing one leg over the other.

"Some local gangs are holding a bike chase tonight and there's a really big reward. Entering as teams – no less than five to a team."

"Five? Where are we going to get the fifth rider?" 

"I'm asking around. There's some amateurs that would gladly ride for us," Norris sat down on the sofa and leaned against Luke's legs. 

"Amateur! Those courses are a killer! Last time we went on it…" He stopped.

Last time he went on a street course on his bike…five of them – him, Sid, Luke, Norris, and Riki. The Bison. They wiped every team off the face of the street. They slammed every course. And they always manage to escape the police, unlike some unlucky teams. He frowned and sat down on the sofa, cradling his head in his hands.

"No," he said. "I don't trust some amateur riding with us. We could get him killed, or he could get us killed. We can't do it without Riki."

His friends sobered. "Damn…" Sid sighed. "And we're running low on money."

"I'll go."

Guy jumped and saw Katze leaning against the doorframe of the living room, clutching his side. His face was pale, but he looked better. Guy raised an eyebrow as he saw that the jeans and the black shirt were his.

Luke whistled. "Daaaamn," he said under his breath so only the people surrounding him on the couch could hear. "Where'd you pick him up, Guy?"

Guy glared at Katze. "I think the rest of you better go home. Right now. I'll give you a call later."

Taking the hint that they were suppose to leave or get run over naked by a car, the rest of his team trudged out of his apartment and shut the door behind them. Katze chose that moment collapse on the ground.

"Katze!" Guy caught his arm before the rest of his body could absorb the impact. 

"It's from the drug. I don't feel any pain," he leaned on Guy as he maneuvered him to the couch. "_What_ did you give me?"

"Well, it kept from waking up for a few hours. The immune system needs sleep," he looked at his watch. "Better get going now."

"Go where?"

"Get my stuff I left at your place."

"Are you _crazy_?!" Katze nearly jumped up. "That place's probably swarming with – "

"Shut up. I have my ways."

"Your ways! I – "

Guy whirled around and stuck the syringe as far as he dared into Katze's arm. His eyes opened wide in surprise as the drug streamed through his blood. His eyelids drooped and Guy let him fall onto the couch.

"Sorry. Sleep'll do you good anyway."

He swung his bike keys in his hand and stepped out.


	4. Bleed

**Usual copyright information goes here. Ai no Kusabi does not belong to me, and I woe my fate.**

Chapter 4: Bleed 

"How much is it?" Guy whispered, pulling the hood of the black sweatshirt over his ears, trying to shield himself in the dark alley. 

The tiny man in front of him slipped him the test tube with a plastic stopper. Guy held it up in front of his eyes and looked at the concoction – it resembled heavy carbon monoxide except for the fact that ever few seconds, blue-white threads of electricity sparked inside and cast cobalt rays on the dark walls and the man's blotchy skin.

"Five hundred credits," the man whispered back.

"If I find you you've been pulling my leg about what this thing is – " Guy pulled the stopper off with his teeth and spit it down on his feet. "How long will it last?"

"Half an hour. I have it for more than an hour if you like, but it'll cost you more."

"No thanks," he slipped the plastic bill into the man's hand and emptied the tube into his lips.

He had only the slightest of urges to empty his stomach as fluid went rampaging down his throat. But after a few seconds, the slight burning feeling in the pits of his stomach increased and felt like he'd swallowed a hot fluorescent light bulb still attached to its wires. He cried out in pain as a thousand burning needles shot through his veins and implanted their tiny silver bodies in the darkness of his mind.

He held up his hand and grinned in satisfaction as he saw only the fingerless gloves he wore and nothing else. He could still trust the old man – he was invisible. He shed his clothes at lightning speed and made a mad dash for Katze's working department. Even though he all the qualities a thief would gladly lose an eye for, he was still in danger. Whoever was still inside the lonely building might have heat-detecting devices attached to their guns – invisible quintessence formulas weren't unknown in the world. 

He made his way in through the window and trotted into the room he was working earlier in, glad to find that the computer and his hacking machine were still intact and left alone. Even his mug of coffee that Katze had brought him rested undisturbed. 

But he was sure he locked the door before…

Biting his lip, he plugged the hacker back into the terminal and allowed it download the research he had done. He froze as he saw shadows move from somewhere to the right of the door. Nearing panic, he silently prayed as the download meter hit 68%. If any of them saw the screen, he was already half dead.

"Did he kill anyone?" A heavy voice asked.

"No, but he seriously wounded a few."

"Did he look like one of Katze's workers?"

_72%…_

"They didn't think so," the other man said. "They couldn't come up with a clear description of him because he moved so fast. They did mention a long pony tail – "

"Long pony tail?"

_89%_

"His hair, sir."

"Damn," the first voice started to sound angry. "Now Katze's running loose, and there's that boy – worst thing they could do is start telling the other black market people what we've been doing," he swore. "Let's go…"

He nearly collapsed as the download completed and the screen resumed its original black screen. He waited until the shadows moved to jerk the hacker off the terminal. He covered it with his hair to prevent anyone passing by on the street to the see the hacker zooming over the street.

He trotted outside and threw the door open.

"There's something down there!"

A felt something burning hot pass his head and he recoiled from the bullet. He looked over his shoulder and saw a man looking down at the supposedly empty street and waving his gun. Guy started running again, and heard the man shout.

His foot crashed into a garbage can and he gasped as a searing white-hot pain shot through his side. He can't stop – not now. He stumbled back into the dark alley as he felt the needles inside his body dissolved – and his body returned to its normal state. He gagged and threw up the contents of the tonic inside the dark alley, and every spasm brought an incredible pain to the side of his body.

Breathing hard, he felt his side and hissed in pain. Fortunately, the bullet had only passed through the skin under his ribs, probably no deeper than an inch or two. He pulled on his pants and jacket and crumpled up his T-shirt to use as a bandage underneath his side.

And smiled triumphantly at whoever had tried to shoot him.

"Katze…"

No sooner than he had opened the door to his apartment, he felt a heavy hand slap him across his face and he crumpled on the floor. He took a staggering breath for air and hissed in pain as he found out he couldn't. He violently coughed and tried to stand up.

"Thought you'd inject me with a narcotic would you…" Katze stopped and fell down on one knee. "What happened?" 

Guy peeled off his jacket, panting. "One of them tried to shoot me."

Katze glanced at the wound. "Doesn't look too deep."

"I know, but it need stitches. Help me up," He took Katze's arm and he helped him stagger into the bathroom. "Can you do at least sew if I tell you how?" He turned on the shower and winced in pain as water hit his wound.

Katze shrugged. "What choice do I have?" 

Half an hour later, Guy collapsed down on the sofa and rubbed his forehead. Katze sat down next to him.

"Did you manage to get your things?" He asked.

"Yeah, but I don't know if they've already been into it or not," he said. "And I don't dare hook it up to my terminal here. It could alert an injected virus and they can find their way here. Who are those guys anyway?"

"Doesn't matter," Katze leaned his head back on the sofa and sighed. "Black market business isn't safe."

"You think I don't know that?" Guy raised an eyebrow.

Katze didn't say anything but pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one. Mesmerized, Guy watched the small flame of ember burn brightly, like a star turning super nova – then calmed down to nothing but ash. A soft wisp of smoke curled in the air as Katze exhaled.

"So what's with this "bike race" tonight?" He asked after a long moment of silence.

"All the bike gangs get together every few months to race down a series of streets," Guy said. "There's absolutely no rule so you can play as dirty as you want."

"And the prize?"

"Money. Lots of it," Guy said. "But the price to pay – who knows if someone's going to jump from the shadows and shoot you? What if the entire police squad decided to chase you down?"

"You've won any of them?"

"A couple of times. Riki broke his arm in three different places and his leg in one of them," Guy hesitated. "It's risky business, but when you're living in a slum – "

"The pleasure of outsmarting the horrors that comes along with it gives you a thrill, doesn't it?"

"Something like that, I guess. I don't have a life."

"So are you going to go?"

"I can't race like this, and neither can you," Guy said, touching his wound. "But I'm going to go down tonight and watch. You're coming as well."

Katze raised an eyebrow. "Why would I want to go?"

"You'd rather stay here alone and wait for those guys to come down and kill you?" 

"And it's safer hanging around a bunch of street rats that don't know the difference between a knife and a fork?"

"Let me tell you this – it's safer hanging around a pack of street rats armed with firepower. There's nothing more they hate than seeing people that are better off than they are, and they'll shoot anything that looks rich to them…" he paused to look at Katze. "Maybe a more street-kid look will help you blend in a bit."

"I'm not going. Since when did I become your responsibility?" Katze speared his cigarette down on the table.

"Since I've operated on you. Get moving. You need to stop looking like you've been living among the elites."

The sun had set and had thrown a dark curtain over the sky. It was a cold night – strangely cold, so cold that Guy could see his breath coming out in small white puffs as he raced across the dark street. He turned into a quiet road and into an unfinished bridge.

About five or six bike gangs had already arrived, along with a throng of spectators ready to watch the show. Barrels filled with fire were scattered to provide warmth and light and a stereo was blaring music. 

But the sight that was worth seeing was Jake, the Race Master. All the years that Guy knew him, he was the only man that was responsible – and the only daring person to host the races. He collected entry fees from each of the bike gangs and in returned, gave the reward, which was actually a small sum compared to all of the entry fees added together.

He was seated on a makeshift "throne" constructed from broken motorcycle parts and other mechanical parts from cars and hardware burned together. The wires and different types of metals, wires, and gears gave the accommodate an eerie look of a throne constructed from the bones and flesh of different animals. Two young boys wearing leather, probably still in their early teens and possibly stolen pets, were chained to the throne. 

If there were any aristocrats in the slums, Jake was it. His muscular legs were clad in expensive leather pants, stolen good from the looks of it, and tucked into heavy studded black boots. Despite the cold, he wore a stretched black muscle tank over his torso and nothing else, showing off the numerous tattoos and embedded metal on his flesh. His face, although strangely handsome in a cruel way, had a long jagged white scar running over his left green eye. His hair was straight and raven black, falling to his shoulders and shielded his face as he silently observed the crowd in front of him.

Guy parked his motorcycle and felt Kazte slid off his behind him. He looked over and grinned. "You fit in perfectly," he said as he turned the machine off.

Katze tried to hide his scowl as Guy observed him. Dressed in leather pants with a studded and worn black leather jacket over his upper body and a bandana underneath his red hair, he blended in perfectly with the rest of them. Guy picked up a bottle of stout from an icebox and walked up to Jake.

"Need I bow down to the Race Master?"

Jake raised an eyebrow. "Are Bison going to take another victory again from the rest of us humble bikers?"

"I'm just here to watch."

Jake smiled. "The gangs are going to be disappointed they're not going to have a challenge, the meeker ones are going to be glad," he lifted his own bottle of stout. "Your team's a legend – the Bison, led by Riki the Dark. A living legend."

"What's the prize?"

"A choice of one of these two," Jake jerked one of the chains holding a lithe blonde pet, stumbling the boy down on his knees. "And ten thousand credits. Tempted yet?"

"No thanks."

"Suit yourself."

Guy walked back to Katze and leaned against his motorcycle, tipping the rubber bottle to his lips. "Some show, huh?"

"This is the only entertainment you have in your life?"

"I don't have a life. But then, growing up in the slums doesn't exactly provide you with class-A entertainment you get from watching pets suck on each other," he tossed the bottle somewhere behind his back and rested his entire weight on the motorcycle, trying to ignore the stinging sensation of longing to lash out at Katze's face with his fist. He bit his tongue instead and tasted blood.

Katze didn't answer him back, but watched the arriving troops of motorcycle gangs with mild interest. In a few minutes, the air turned reasonably warmer from the arriving machinery and the amount of fire barrels burning. Bottles of liquor were broken on unsuspecting heads; a knife fight was started between two teenagers, menacing laughter echoed through the air. Jake silently smirked at the crowd on his throne and stroked his lips with one hand, his eyes glittering with bloodlust and excitement.

Absolute chaos.

Except for a sound of a bazooka sending it's fiery contents into the dark sky, there wasn't a single warning for the start of the race. More than a dozen gangs of five members shot down the unfinished highway.

Guy grinned at Katze. "It'd no fun watching them from up here. You want to ride on the sidelines?"

Katze faced him and spit out the cigarette in his mouth. "And get killed?"

"Hey, who was so hotshot about racing this morning anyway?" Guy kicked a long leg over his motorcycle and felt the magnetic engine whirling into life, lifting him up in the air. 

"It was _my_ idea…"

"Fine," Guy twisted the handles and felt Katze grabbed his waist and swung up behind him. He winced as he followed the distant taillights from the motorcycles racing and he struggled to control the bike with the unexpected weight. He kicked it into balance and increased speed. He swung into an invisible path, shadowing the racing bikes.

"Shit!" Katze shouted as one of the motorcycles suddenly lost its balance and crashed into a parked car dangerously close to them. Grunting with the effort, Guy managed to swerve away before the whole thing exploded. He felt Katze's head on his shoulder as they bent away from the flames and debris.

"That's just the primary – level," Guy grunted. "Wait till you get near the end of the race."

Silently, he felt Katze tighten his hold around his waist.

Without a single forewarning shout, two men hidden in the shadows of an alley leapt out on the street and scattered what looked like silver cans down on the middle of the asphalt. 

"Shit – battery gas!" Guy increased his speed, racing past the other bikes before the cans exploded, sending showers of acidic gas over the bikers. Only fifteen riders managed to work their way past the burning chemical. Guy slowed down at a bridge and came to a stop. 

Two of the bikes burst into flames and exploded as they neared the end, shooting fire into the sky and sending dismembered limbs of the riders into the river down below. Guy took a deep breath and wiped the sweat off his face with a gloved hand, observing the scene. Slowly, as if quietly disappearing into the dark night, the red lights from the remaining riders vanished along with the distant sirens of the police approaching.

"That could've been you," Katze whispered.

"What?" He turned around in his seat and looked at Katze's face. It was expressionless, but the strange look in his eyes sent a cold chill down the bones in his spinal cord. The other man slid off and slowly walked to the burning remains of the two motorcycles.

"Katze?" Guy swung off and trotted after him. "What is it – "

"It's could've been you," Katze said. "Those kids that died – the explosion – the gas – it could've been you. You could've died all those years you spent, riding the streets of hell. Your life thrown away. And none of this would've happened."

"Katze…"

"You don't understand," Kazte slammed his hands on the rusting railing of the bridge, bending his head over so his red hair shielded his face from view. "If only you've died on one of those mad chases, Riki wouldn't have died, Iason wouldn't have died – this is _ALL OF YOUR DAMN FAULT_!!" He threw his head up, gasping for air and suppressing a dry sob back down his throat. His entire body shook madly and he gripped at the railings, trying to stop the mad shaking. "_All of your fault! You – fault!_ Ah – "

He crashed down on the ground, silent. Guy felt nothing but a sharp white pain running through his brain, and he leaned against the railing, his heart exhausted. He covered his mouth with one hand and sobbed into it while he bit down on his lip. Blood tricked down on his chin.

"It might be better if I just end it all," Katze said, standing up. "I'd jump off this bridge right now if it wasn't for one thing."

Guy removed his hand and faced Katze. He silently stepped up to him and ran his thumb over the thin trickle of blood running down his chin. "I'll die after I see you turn this mess of a utopia into something real. Something human."

He stepped close to cut off the distance left between them and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, leaning his forehead on Guy's shoulder. Guy slid his own arms around Katze's waist and held him without a word. 

He didn't know how long time had passed. It didn't matter. 

He could nearly hear Katze's heart bleed as he continued to hold him, the warmth of his forehead spreading through his jacket and onto the skin of his shoulder. Somewhere in the darkness and the coldness of the night, a frozen jewel broke and shattered. His soul. Or Katze's. He didn't know. 

He pushed Katze back a few steps and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Let's go home."

Katze slipped his arm around his waist as they walked back to his motorcycle.


	5. Amoi's Birth

I've took an entire course on philosophy/utopias/conspiracies so you'll have to bear with me on this chapter! Mhua ha ha ha ha ha… and go read Brave New World if you haven't. It's the closest society to Ai no Kusabi that I can think of.

He made his way up into his apartment, supporting what felt like a lifeless corpse in his hands and laid it down on his bed. Without a sound, Katze drew the sheets up around his ears and stared at the wall.

"Are you all right?" Guy asked. He leaned over and pulled off the bandana. "You want a drink? Cigarette?"

"I want my life back," Katze murmured. "The life I never got to experience."

Guy frowned and shut the door behind him. He took a deep breath and crashed down on the sofa, burying his face into the scratchy surface. 

Did he even have a life? He'd thought he didn't – doing nothing but racing down the roads, challenging Death to come take him if it dared, competing neck to neck with the police force that tried to take him down, friendship with Luke, Norris, Sid, and Riki.

It made him happy, though. It gave him pure joy – not just the bliss that came with high-society parties among the upper caste, the hours spent among successful life with no meaning, just living without…a point.

He had a point in life. To survive. To outlive. To find joy even in the darkness corner of the slums. _His _life. 

That's one advantage he has over the upper caste. 

One advantage he has over Jupiter. 

The fact that he had a life.

He pushed himself up and picked up the discarded hacking machine. He hooked it up to his terminal and started reading the history of Amoi. 

"Interesting place to sleep. Hope you didn't electrocute yourself."

"What?" Guy opened his eyes and realized he had fallen asleep on top of his keyboard. He gave Katze a look of despise and wiped at the corner of his mouth. He stretched and yawned.

"How are you doing? You weren't so hot earlier tonight."

"So I'm not allowed to pity myself every once in awhile? Mind if I use your bathroom?" He held up a towel.

"No," Guy yawned again and made his way into the kitchen after a few minutes of staring blankly at the screen saver. He could use a cup of coffee, but he was so tired he could hardly think straight. He made his way to the medicine cabinet and grabbed a pack of caffeine pills. He was tearing out one with Katze walked in, his upper body naked and wet. He was toweling his hair and glanced at the pills, a red eyebrow rising. 

"Overdosing already?" A small smile cracked on his lips.

"I will, if I don't wake up," he swallowed the pill dry and slid down on the floor, his head still throbbing from the pressure of the keyboard. He took the bottle Katze offered him and swallowed half of the water, sighing as the cool liquid went rushing down his throat. He poured the rest of it over his face and let it run down his hair and neck.

"What did you learn?" Katze asked.

He pushed himself up and took his wrist. "Come on, I'll tell you." He walked back to the sofa and slumped down again, massaging his head. Katze carefully took the torn couch at the other end and eyed him warily.

"What? I don't bite," Guy cocked his eyebrow.

Katze's eyes bored into his. "Tell me."

With the effects of the caffeine pills, the headache started to slowly diffuse. "Well…the history goes like this," he tapped the edge of his chin thoughtfully. "Throughout history man had sought to create a perfect society. Am I correct?"

"I'm not a student, Guy. Go on."

"Sir Thomas Moore had written his book "Utopia" during the Renaissance, which translates into "nowhere". A utopia, or a perfect world, have failed each time man had tried to create it," he continued. "But first, in order to have a perfect world, one must have a society where everyone is _happy_ with their position, _happy_ with their life,_ happy_ with what they are. Anyone that is an outcast, one that is not happy with life is treated as an outcast, or killed."

Katze shrugged. "I wonder why Jupiter just didn't send a couple of her few hundred homicidal androids and just murder you lot off the face of this planet?"

"And make it seem like she was running a society were she was killing people? No, of course not, instead she "bestowed mercy" by giving us a piece of fertile land – the slums," he added a dash of sarcasm to his words. "We'll all die out eventually in the end if we don't do anything. Give it a couple of years and Amoi will be nothing but genetically engineered people – both the upper and lower caste. And guess what? A lower class wouldn't even care if they were low – they'd be happy with what they are."

"Doesn't sound so bad. Ignorance is bliss."

"What if you were treated like muck without knowing it – then would you be happy?" Guy snapped.

"No. But then, I'm not in the lower caste. Why should I care?" Katze lit another cigarette. "Quit it with the philosophy. I want to hear about the history of this place."

"A group of scientists back on earth was experimenting with human genes – finding a way to create the ideal child that a parent wants, no matter the hair or eye color. Or a child that a society wants – for example, a child with only a 35% developed brain that could be "trained" to clean," Guy grinned. "You see? No need for what we would call "real human" labor. Now, we have specifically underdeveloped humans that can work for us without payment, and they wouldn't care. Give them a little food, some place to sleep, and oh yes…" Guy took the cigarette out of Katze's mouth and gestured with it. "Drugs to keep them happy."

"Now, the problem with creating a utopia on earth is – " he took a deep whiff of the cigarette before coughing violently and smashing it out on the ashtray. "There are too many worldviews and diversity – but of course, you break it down into three and you get Naturalism, Pantheism, and Theism. With too many protests from other people, the scientists left planet earth to find a place where they could conduct their experiment…in…peace…" he stood up and place a finger on his lips. "So I have read, a group of scientists from all over the world that have contributed to the experiments, left earth, disguising to the rest of the world that they were going to fly to a uninhabited space station that was established in Mars a few years back and stay there for a couple of years."

"Who funded the project?" Katze asked.

"Various powerful governments around in the world did."

"So it was a conspiracy?"

"No – " Guy shook his head. "All the government thought they were funding was a group of scientists that wanted to start a colony on Mars. So after ship was launched – let's just say that it had a rather tragic accident that killed all of its passengers."

"But that's impossible – did the scientists even knew of a planet that could hold humans?"

"There was an astronomer that had calculated the whereabouts of a solar system not far from earth years before they started the project, and he joined the team," Guy shrugged. "It was risky business but they would do anything for the name of science."

"Amoi was discovered and they found it to be very similar to earth," Guy continued. "It had five levels of atmosphere, precipitates like earth, and has a stable gravity. But there was a problem –the amount of ultraviolet rays coming from the solar system's "sun" was twice as strong to plants than they were back on earth, unraveling their protein structure, and no amount of care and urging could get the plants to undergo photosynthesis. So the scientists had a couple of tough years…but with the technology and ways of growing plants underneath a controlled environment, they established a colony of about 300 men, women and children, with 90% of all of the adults being scientists. And that's when history started. Amoi grew, flourished – and despite the soil being infertile, they found massive amounts of elements needed to create transportation devices, homes. They flew to other planets close to Amoi and established colonies there. Four hundred years later, there was a new world."

"Did earth know anything about this?" Katze asked.

"In time they did," Guy said. "But Amoi's solar system was blocked by a shielding device similar to the black hole that did not allow earth to find its whereabouts. But they knew it existed."

"What about the whole utopia-thing?"

"As time went by, there more people starting to resist against the idea of creating the perfect society the found fathers of Amoi wanted," Guy said. "There were underground movements, rebellions, riots…but they did little. The perfect society the discoverers wanted wasn't there, and Amoi and the other planets started a pathway towards decay, faster than what anyone would have seen on earth."

"But then, the scientists' experiments backfired one day," Guy said, looking down into his hands. "I don't know the full details, but I knew that they were messing around with artificial intelligence by hooking a human brain up to the solar system's main computer that calculated everything from food to education - a woman by the name of Seetar. Apparently, they couldn't remove her from the wires and she slowly molded into the main computer and became what you know as Jupiter. She named herself after the largest planet in the earth's solar system, equivalent of the Greek god Zeus, ruler of the cosmos." 

"It was then that _she_ created the perfect society. She genetically engineered those she wanted to, creating a caste system the former scientists had dreamed of. And instead of having a massive genocide on the rebellions, she ranked them the lowest and allowed them to live their own lives in areas she specifically marked off for them – but she also took almost all of the female women with her until the ratio was ten men to one woman – and those women were the very first to become what we call Pets."

Katze thoughtfully leaned back. 

"And then society turned, raveled, unraveled, twisted into what you see today," he gestured out the window. 

"What about the first revolution against the upper caste? Did you find something about it? About the Dana Bhan – "

"One thing at a time," Guy crossed a leg over the other and tapped his forehead. "If remembered correctly a rebellion was staged years and years ago…probably during the third or fourth generation of the scientists that colonized Amoi – inside an old building that had an electrical shielding device. Apparently, the scientists set it up way back then when they were conducting experiments of some sort and they didn't want interference from whatever power plant or something that they were constructing…I don't know. The source was very vague on it."

Katze looked down at his hands and covered his face, rubbing his temples. "Guy. You mind if I do something? Right now?"

Guy looked up. "What?"

Katze crossed the space between the sofa and the couch, swung a leg over Guy's lower body, and locked his lips on his.

It was one of the most passionate kisses he ever had in his life. He couldn't describe it…it wasn't _sexually_ passionate, but it was something deeper, something stronger, something that threatened to make him start crying right there and then. He clutched at the back of Katze's neck and drew him harder, wanting to reach inside his very soul. He forced to keep to his eyes open so he could look into the piercing gold eyes, to unravel the hidden emotions inside. 

Then they broke free.

Slightly out of breath, Katze collapsed on him, his entire weight on Guy. He touched the curve of Guy's neck with his lips and rested his forehead on his shoulder.

"Are you all right?" He whispered, the heat of his words caressing the skin on his neck. "Guy?"

"Yeah. I'm all right," he whispered back.

Katze untangled himself from Guy and sat next to him, not saying a word. Then silently, he threaded his fingers through his and said quietly, "It's funny how we were taught that earth existed, but we always viewed it as another realm, another world. I guess Tanagura isn't that…philosophical."

"Why should they be?" Guy shrugged. "The high caste has everything they need. The rest of the lower ones are trying to survive that they don't – they _couldn't_ give a damn about where they come from."

"I don't want to crush your hopes or anthing…but – "

"You know who wrote the history of Amoi that I just read?" Guy said, looking down at his fingers woven with Katze's. 

"Who?"

"Iason. It was Iason."

Katze didn't look as surprise as Guy had expected him to be. "Figured," he said, tilting his head to the side. "I nearly managed hacked into one of the main computers when I was younger and almost discovered Tanagura's secret before Iason did this to me," he pushed back his hair so Guy could get a full view of the scar on his face. "I guess he didn't want me to know about it."

"What would you have done if you discovered the secret?" Guy asked.

"Nothing," he shrugged. 

Guy blinked. "_Nothing_?" 

"Why should I do anything?" Katze lit a cigarette and stared numbly at it before piercing it fiercely into the ashtray. "I had a place to stay, work, money, and food."

"But you didn't work for Iason anymore…"

"After he slashed my face?" Katze eyeballed him. "No."

"Then why didn't you try to do something – "

"I still had a place to stay and I could support myself," he said. "I don't give a damn about the caste system. I don't care."

"_Why_?"

"Iason was still alive. That was enough."

Guy took a deep breath and decided not to press the subject. Katze didn't look any different than he did, but he could feel an uncomfortable aura around him.

"Did you love him?" He heard himself say.

Katze started laughing.

Guy looked to the side, both astonished by his question and Katze's laughter. "Are you all right?" He asked.

"I'm going to bed," Katze leaned towards him and gave Guy a lingering kiss on the side of his neck. "You should too," he added from the doorway.

He followed Katze into the bedroom and watched as Katze removed his shirt. The soft golden lightning in the room turned his hard muscles into something soft yet strong – like gently carved marble. Katze caught his eye and looked away.

Guy silently took off his own clothes and slid underneath the covers. He reached for the bottle of sleeping pills he kept in the drawer next to the bed but felt Katze touch his shoulder. The other man reached for the bottle of pills in his hands and put it back on the drawer.

"Come here," he whispered. He placed a soft kiss on his eyelids and placed a hand on the curve of his neck. "Sleep."

The next thing he knew was that he heard someone walking – pacing more like it. He opened his eyes and yawned. Katze was walking back and forth and constantly touching his forehead with his fingertips.

"What's wrong?" Guy asked, rolling on his stomach.

"I've just thought of something…" Katze said.

"At three in the morning?" Guy rolled his eyes as he looked at the digital watch he had left on the dresser.

"I have to go," Katze said.

"What?!" The words left his lips in a shout. "What do you mean? You'll be caught! Those guys from the black market – "

"I won't be caught," Katze said and started dressing. "And I won't be gone long."

"No, let me take you – "

"I can't let you come with me," Katze said. "I'm sorry."

"You are _not_ going! Katze!" Guy threw his legs off the bed and followed him out the bedroom. 

Katze's fist snapped out towards him.

Reflexively, he stepped back and raised his right hand to block the blow. He staggered back a few steps.

"Don't make me hurt you, Guy," Katze said, drawing his fist back. 

"Katze, don't do this to me. I can't do this alone."

Katze looked at him and silently, he slipped out of the apartment. The door shut with a click and everything was silence.

_Everyone…gone…_Guy bit his lip and felt a trickle of blood run down his chin.


End file.
